


Gyros and Vampires

by Mrs_SimonTam_PHD



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha!Sam, Cock Warming, M/M, Mated Couple, Monster of the Week, Quick Research, Sibling Incest, face fucking, omega!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 15:02:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16875051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD/pseuds/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD
Summary: Sam and Dean take care of a new monster





	Gyros and Vampires

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr
> 
> Written for the Case Fic Square on my SPN ABO Bingo Card

Dean yawned as he walked into the bunker library, the Omega ruffling his hair as he walked in. Spying Sam on his laptop, he walked over to his brother-mate and kissed his cheek. “Mornin’, Sammy,” he rumbled.

“Hey. Check this out. There’s been a few deaths in this small city in Ohio,” Sam said, pointing to the newspaper articles. “Five people suffocated to death in their sleep.”

“That’s weird, but is it our kind of thing?” Dean asked, leaning onto his Alpha.

“Well, that’s the thing. Apparently, there’s canine hair around the throat of the victims,” Sam said, pointing to the coroner’s report that he got by hacking into the database. “They’re thinking wolf hair.”

“So… either something supernatural, or the guy ganking these folks doesn’t groom his pet wolf,” Dean said.

“Exactly.” Sam looked up at Dean. “We should get going, it’s a fifteen hour drive.”

Dean groaned. “I’ll go pack, you make coffee to go?” he asked.

“Sure,” Sam smiled. He stood up and wrapped his Omega in his arms. “My little Omega.”

Dean purred and nuzzled into Sam’s chest contently. “Alpha.”

Sam kissed him chastely before swatting him on the ass. “Get moving.”

“This got the feds attention already?” Sheriff Martin asked after Dean and Sam flashed their badges, introducing themselves as “Agents Idol and Bowie”.

“Yeah, well, it’s kind of strange that there’s five victims in five nights and there’s canine hair on them,” Dean said in a voice that said don’t question me.

“Six victims.” The sheriff sighed, running his hand down over his face. “We just got another call, ‘bout an hour before you boys showed up.”

“Is there any connection amongst the victims?” Sam asked.

The sheriff thought as he tugged the case files to him. “Only thing that I can come up with is that they all are of Greek ancestry,” he said.

“How can you tell?” Dean asked.

“Last names. Christos, Biros, Lagos, Palas, Mikos, and Vitalis. All traditional Greek names,” he replied. “Nearly ten percent of the town’s got Greek somewhere in ‘em.” The sheriff kept his eyes on Dean, eyeing him up like a steak dinner.

Sam nodded. “Anything else? Strange smells reported, anything strange besides the canine hairs?”

Sheriff Martin thought, then shook his head. “Not that I can think of.” he wrote down the names and addresses of the victims. “Good luck, boys. Hopefully you can figure this one out.” His gaze lingered on Dean a little longer than strictly necessary. Dean didn’t catch it, but Sam did.

“Thank you, Sheriff,” Dean said.

Sam thanked the sheriff and quickly moved Dean away from the man.

“What the hell, Sammy?” Dean asked once they were safe inside in the Impala.

“You didn’t smell him?” Sam asked in surprise.

“No. Remember? The suppressants dull my sense of smell?” Dean said.

“Right. Well, he was also giving you the bedroom eyes.”

“Really?” Dean wrinkled his nose. “Ugh.”

Sam laughed. “Okay, so…You go talk to the witnesses, I’ll go research at the motel?”

“Sounds good to me,” Dean said, kicking the Impala into gear.

“Was there anything strange about the night your husband died, or the days before that?” Dean asked Mrs. Mikos gently.

“Come to think of it,” the young widow sniffled, “there was. There was a knock on the door, and it called for me and Michael. I didn’t answer- I was going to answer the door after I finished washing the dishes, but Michael got there before me, calling back. Whoever it was had left, though. And then, maybe three days later, my husband was dead.”

“Were you sleeping next to your husband when he died?” Dean asked.

“No, I was downstairs, preparing baklava for the festival,” Mrs. Mikos said.

Dean nodded. “Thank you for your time, ma’am,” he said.

“Oh, you’re welcome, Agent Idol. Say, would you like some food to take back to your partner?” Mrs. Mikos asked.

Dean’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yes, please,” he said.

“Dude, we’ve got food,” Dean said. “Greek food.”

“Great,” Sam said with a warm smile before it turned serious. “I think I know what we’re hunting.”

“Yeah? Well, let’s see if this confirms it. All the witnesses said that a few days before the vics died, someone knocked once, then called for the occupants.”

“And let me guess,” Sam said, “the victims are the ones who answered the door.”

“You got it.” Dean sat down at the rickety table, handing Sam a plate of food. “Confirm it?”

“Yeah, it does. So get this, we’re hunting a vrykolakas,” Sam said.

“Is that a kind of meat?” Dean frowned in confusion.

The Alpha laughed. “Not exactly. A vrykolakas is kind of like a werewolf-vampire hybrid of Greek folklore.”

Dean made a face. “What?”

“Yeah. See, Greeks as recent as fifty years ago believed in vrykolakas,” Sam explained. “They’re created if someone lived a life of sacrilege or spat on the gods, or if they were excommunicated from their family or community, or if someone eats the meat from a sheep killed by a wolf or werewolf. Or, even weirder, if a werewolf was killed.”

“That would kind of explain the hairy palms,” Dean mused, “even though werewolves don’t actually have hair on their palms. So that’s the werewolf part. Vampire is the undead part. Do they drink blood?”

“Not exactly.” Sam grimaced. “Here’s where it gets fun. A vrykolakas can knock on the door of someone’s house and call for its occupants. If no one answers, everyone’s safe. If someone answers, they die. Oh, and become vrykolakas themselves.”

“So, you’re telling me we have at least seven vrykolakas wandering around this town?” Dean asked in disbelief.

“Yeah.” Sam leaned back in his seat, legs spread wide. “And they often kill by suffocation or crushing the victim in their sleep, thereby draining the victims of their lifeforce.”

Dean took a large bite of his gyro, groaning. “Kay, so how do we kill it?” he asked.

“Two methods. Lightning, or fire. Oh, and preferably on a Saturday,” Sam said with a tight grin.

“Why Saturday?” Dean mumbled around a mouthful of food.

“According to the lore, the only day that they don’t rise from their graves,” Sam sighed. He grabbed his food and sniffed it, smiling. “Smells good.”

“Mrs. Mikos sent it,” Dean said.

“Last victim?” Sam asked.

Dean nodded. “Today’s Saturday, right?”

Sam nodded. “But Dean, we don’t even know who the original vrykolakas is.” He took a bite of the souvlaki and moaned. “So good.”

“Good point.” Dean shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll find it eventually. We can at least put the other six to rest.”

Sam nodded. “We’ll wait a bit before we go to the cemetery. While we wait, after dinner, do you want to fuck?”

Dean choked on his dolma. Sam smirked and waited for his mate to answer.

The Omega nodded, feeling slick leak out as he swallowed. “Yes, Alpha,” he breathed.

Sam grinned. “Finish eating, then.” He calmly picked his own dolma up and began eating it.

Dean’s never finished a meal so fast in his life.

That night, Sam and Dean went out and salted and burned all the victims of the vrykolakas. Dean was walking a bit stiffly, but he didn’t mind. Not when he got to watch his Alpha dig up the six graves as compensation for pile driving him into the motel mattress. Nothing was better than watching Sam get sweaty and dirty to have as his masturbatory fantasies.

“So, how’re we going to catch the original vrykolakas?” Dean asked as they drove back to the motel.

Sam sighed. “I’m going to check coroner’s reports, see if I can find a pattern of a werewolf being in the area and then cross reference the obituaries from when the final heart was taken to deaths.”

“And then what, we burn everyone of those bones?” Dean asked.

“No,” Sam said, throwing his Omega a bitch face. “We see who all was of Greek descent and see if we can find someone who was maybe ostracized or even excommunicated from the church.”

“So… basically I sleep and you’re going to nerd out?” Dean asked.

“Dean.”

“I’m just sayin’, man, there’s only one laptop and two of us,” Dean pointed out.

Sam smirked. “Oh, I’ll be doing the research, no doubt. But you’re going to have work to do.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “You mean-”

“You’re going to be between my legs keeping my cock warm with that pretty little mouth of yours,” Sam said.

Dean mewled. “Sammy,” he began to say. He loved being Sam’s cockwarmer- nothing felt better than having his Alpha’s hot, thick length in his mouth and him just holding it- but he was exhausted.

“You can sleep while you keep my cock warm,” Sam laughed, anticipating what his Omega was going to say.

Dean groaned.

“As long as you don’t mind being woken up to being face fucked once I find the vrykolakas,” Sam added.

Dean swerved. It was rare that Sam spoke like this, but when he did, it made Dean lose his absolute mind. “Sammy,” he whined.

“I think you like that idea,” Sam smirked darkly. “Drive properly, now.”

Dean swallowed. “Yes, Alpha.”

They arrived at the motel shortly after that, and they both got right to work. Dean snagged a pillow from the bed and put down in front of Sam’s chair as Sam opened his laptop and pulled up the hacking tools he needed before undoing his belt and jeans, his cock jutting out once it was freed.

Dean tugged the length towards him as he got comfortable before sliding his mouth over Sam’s dick. The Alpha groaned and ran his fingers through Dean’s hair.

“Such a good little Omega,” he praised and Dean felt himself warm with the praise and he closed his eyes, leaning his cheek against Sam’s solid thigh.

They did this for a reason. Sometimes, Dean got into a hunt, couldn’t relax until everyone had been saved. This was especially true when more than one thing that goes bump in the night was terrorizing a place. This had gotten him hurt and nearly killed more times than Sam could count. So, when they mated, if it was promising to be a multiple kill hunt, Sam would make sure that Dean wasn’t thinking too much and had the chance to relax, even if it was by kneeling and warming Sam’s cock while Sam did research. It allowed his mind to quiet and himself to calm.

Dean felt himself drift off to sleep, lulled to dreamland by the clacking of Sam’s laptop and the heavy weight in his mouth.

Dean woke up to Sam’s fingers knotted in his hair and the head of Sam’s cock thrusting itself down his throat. He gagged and coughed, blinking up at Sam. Sunlight streamed down onto his face and he squinted up at his mate.

“Morning,” Sam panted, hips stilling and Dean felt his mouth fill up with his Alpha’s warm release, thankful that there wasn’t a knot. He swallowed and coughed, kitten licking his mate’s cock clean.

“Mornin’,” Dean said, his voice raspy. “Find something?”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “George Zervas. Aged thirty five, died by hanging himself in his garage about a week ago.”

“Does that count as sacrilegious living?” Dean moaned.

“Considering he didn’t have last rites conducted on him, yeah, it does, not to mention suicide is kind of an ‘unforgivable’ sin,” Sam said. “After he died, a rash of murders of people with their hearts missing that occurred every full moon for two years stopped.However, the next night was when our first victim died.”

“Great,” Dean said, stretching and feeling his back pop and crack.

“And get this- back in ancient times, people who had red hair and grey eyes were thought to be vrykolakas. Guess what features George Zervas had.”

“I’m going to guess not brown hair and blue eyes,” Dean said, sliding out from under the table and stretching. “You get any shut eye?”

“A little,” Sam said, “but not much. I figured we could sleep a little bit before going to find the vrykolakas.”

“Where would a vrykolakas hang out, if he’s not in his coffin?” Dean wondered as he walked over to their bed.

“In town,” Sam shrugged. “I’m going to guess that he’s been hiding out in the garage that he died in.”

“And not let his wife know he’s alive?” Dean asked incredulously.

Sam shrugged as he walked over, undoing his shirt and shucking his jeans off, leaving him in his boxers. “Strip and get in.”

Dean took his own clothes off and crawled into bed. Sam crawled in behind him and wrapped his arms around his Omega. “How’re you feeling, baby?” he asked tenderly.

“Good,” Dean said honestly, feeling his eyes droop shut. Even though he got some decent sleep, he was still tired and being in Sam’s strong arms was the best.

There was a singular knock on the door that aroused Dean from his sleep. Grunting, he rolled out of bed and made his way to the door, checking his watch. It was one AM. Who the fuck was knocking at one AM?

Well, he was going to find out. Sam wasn’t- his Alpha slept like the fucking dead are supposed to sleep.

“Sam?” a man’s voice said as Dean approached the door, his hand landing gently on the doorknob.

“De?” Sam moaned. “Who’s at the door?”

“Dunno.”

“Dean?”

Sam sat straight up, running across the motel room. “Dean, Dean, don’t open that door.”

“Why?” Dean asked.

“How many knocks were there?” Sam asked.

“What does-”   
“How many?!”

“One!” Dean snapped.

“Dean, it’s the vrykolakas. Remember how they get vics?”

Dean blinked. “Knock on doors, calling out for the residents?” he said. He was on a sleep and orgasm high.

“Exactly,” Sam said, drawing Dean away. “Go get the flamethrower*

They could hear the vrykolakas slowly move away from the door and down to the next one as Dean silently went and grabbed the flame thrower from the duffle, making sure that he couldn’t be seen by the vrykolakas in the dead of the night. He felt his fingers curl around it and he discreetly made sure that it had enough gasoline. He nodded as Sam made eye contact with him.

They could hear the vrykolakas knocking on other doors throughout the hotel, calling out for the occupants within. No one else that they could hear opened the door.

Dean was now more awake and alert than when the vrykolakas first made contact that night, and he and Sam crept out of the door, Dean holding the flame thrower.

The vrykolakas turned. George Zervas now looked closer to a wendigo than he did to human, and they watched as more Dracula style teeth slid into place upon seeing its next meal. His skin was of a greyish hue, and his eyes were sunken in, and alight with mischievous delight.

“Fuck,” Sam and Dean swore under their breath, watching as the vrykolakas moved towards them, quickly but not too quickly.

“What can slow him down?” Dean asked.

“Uhhh…” Sam thought quickly, both of them quickly backing into their hotel room as they became painfully aware that they were in just their boxers. Frantically, they closed their door and Sam lunged for his machete.

The door blew back, taking Sam with it.

“Sam!” Dean barked, gearing up the flamethrower as Sam stood up, chest huffing with righteous Alpha pride as the vrykolakas stalked towards him.

“Exorcizamus te omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio-” Sam began shouting before the vrykolakas backhanded him across the face, sending him flying and flipping over the bed.

Dean picked up where Sam left off, seeing that it had affected the creature somehow, “omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.”

The vrykolakas turned towards him, his face twisted into an ugly mask of disgust and hatred. The spirit, however, clung onto the twisted creature.

“Ergo…” Sam picked up, wheezing, “draco maledicte. Ut ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus-”

The vrykolakas pushed Sam down flat and began sitting on his chest, obviously trying to kill Sam before the exorcism was complete, but Dean wasn’t about to let his mate get killed.

“Audi nos!” Dean roared.

The vrykolakas screamed, and then disappeared.

“Hey, you alright?” Dean asked, running over and grabbing his Alpha’s hand, helping him stand up.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Sam panted, dusting himself off. “C’mon, get dressed.”

“Get dressed?” Dean asked, but set down the flamethrower to do as he was told.

“Yeah. You see, an exorcism only sends the vrykolakas back to its grave, but if you leave one unattended for too long-”

“It regains power,” Dean said. “Do we know where it’s buried?” He threw Sam his shirt. Sam caught it with ease, slipping it over his tousled hair.

“I can guess,” Sam said. “C’mon. To the Impala.”

They found where George Zervas had been buried- in the backyard of his home, over by a swing set that he had apparently built by hand for his two daughters.

They had to work quickly, unloading their shovels of dirt onto the grass next to them.

About halfway through, Dean looked at Sam. “Man, this feels wrong. Why isn’t he buried in a cemetery?”

Sam shrugged. “I have no clue, Dean,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe Mrs. Zervas felt like he couldn’t be buried on consecrated ground because he committed suicide.”

Dean gave this explanation some thought before shrugging. “Maybe.”

George Zervas looked worse for wear in his coffin, no doubt a result of the exorcism that the brother-mates had done. He was weakly gurgling.

“Okay, so, I’m going to decapitate him, let’s give him some spikes, and then burn him,” Sam said.

Dean blinked and looked at his brother. “Isn’t that overkill?” he asked.

“Do you want to come back?” Sam asked, hefting his machete.

Dean shook his head. “Nah.”

“Okay, so let’s do this.” Sam hefted his machete and sliced the vrkolakas’ head off neatly.

They both took a handful of stakes before pouring gasoline and lighting it on fire. George Zervas screamed as its body was engulfed in flames.

“You know what I don’t get?” Dean asked as they shoveled the dirt back over the grave.

“What?” Sam replied.

“Well, vrykolakas tend to go after family first, right?” Dean asked. Sam nodded. “Well, why didn’t he go after his wife or daughters?”

Sam pointed to a small clove of garlic hidden behind the backporch light with his shovel. “Garlic. It wards off vrykolakas.”

“Huh.” Dean nodded. “So, I guess every little bit of Hollywood vamp lore is true?”

Sam shrugged. “Guess it depends on the vamp.”

Dean nodded as they walked back to the Impala and drove off into the night, on their way home.

Halfway out of Ohio, Sam laid his head down in Dean’s lap, and Dean’s hand automatically lifted off the steering wheel and ran his fingers through his Alpha’s hair. “Tired, Alpha?” he asked.

“A little.” Sam murmured.

Dean chuckled. “I’ll put on a soft rock station, how’s that?” he asked.

“I’d like that,” Sam said.

Dean changed the station and began combing his fingers through Sam’s hair again. “Sammy?”

“Yeah, De?”

“Want to pull into a motel in the next 50 miles?” Dean asked.

Sam huffed. “Horny Omega,” he teased.

“You know it,” Dean chuckled. “But I could also use some shut eye.”

Sam smirked against Dean’s thigh. “Alright.”

Dean smiled as soft rock played through the speakers of the Impala as the Winchester brother-mates drove further away from Ohio and onto their next adventure.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell
> 
> Comments and Kudos are Shiny!!


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